


Catching the Scent

by wynter123321



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Male Solo, clothes smelling, smell kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 23:39:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7243468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynter123321/pseuds/wynter123321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanzo enjoys the smell of McCree so much he steals his clothing to smell while pleasuring himself. McCree was entirely unaware until now. Made because of this post http://milkcree.tumblr.com/post/146004529910/hanzo-liking-to-smell-an-article-of-mccrees</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catching the Scent

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a really quickly written drabble because I liked the idea on the post. It's short and there's probably mistakes ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Hanzo clutched the fabric tightly in his hand. He could already smell the heavy smoke scent coming off of the shirt despite only holding it at chest level. As he brought it closer to his nose he could make out a few other scents from it; gunpowder, cologne, whiskey maybe? The last two were notably cheap smelling. Then came the scent Hanzo searched for past the others, sweat. He knew it wasn’t a smell most found pleasant, but something about it stiffened his cock in an instant. It’s what kept him ‘borrowing’ the dirty clothes any chance he got. It helped that McCree was a good looking man in Hanzo’s eyes, and that he was a sweaty man in anyone’s eyes.

Hanzo stripped himself of the yukata he wore around base. He didn’t want the smell of his own clothes to block that of McCree’s. He slipped McCree’s over sized shirt on, leaving the front of it open. His face tucked against his shoulder to smell the fabric again. Hanzo’s hand slipped instinctually down to his hardened cock. For a moment he pretended it was McCree’s hand. He imagine the musky, sweaty cowboy inches from his body, clutching Hanzo’s length in his hand.

The smell was intoxicating as Hanzo pumped himself. He’d never admit to McCree just how much he loved the scent, and he’d definitely never tell him that he’d made a habit of stealing clothes. There was too much risk in that. Instead he’d stick to taking the clothes then sneaking them back into McCree’s room after a wash. He’d managed to figure out the best times to slip in and out of the room without McCree ever noticing. A feet that under different circumstances he could have bragged on. Hanzo let out a small laugh at the idea of trying to brag about stealing dirty clothes.

He shook his head focusing back on the task in hand. One of his hands slid up and down the length of his dick while the other lifted a too long sleeve to his face. Hanzo laid back on his bed. He could feel the fabric envelop him, covering him in the smell of McCree. As he caught the particularly strong remains of cigar smoke from the sleeve in his face mixing with the sweat from the nearby pit of the shirt, an image came to mind. Hanzo pictured McCree fresh from a fight enjoying a cigar, the smoke wafting into Hanzo’s face, as McCree made use of Hanzo’s body. The image was enough to pull the orgasm from Hanzo. The shirt sleeve fell purposefully down his arm, catching the cum in the fabric.

As Hanzo let out a hard moan as well as the last splatters of cum just as the door to his room opened. Hanzo looked up slowly, still dazed from orgasm. The daze fell quickly though as his eyes caught the sight of McCree in the doorway.

“Oh! Pardon!” McCree quickly closed the door back in front of him.”I, uh, was just comin’ to tell you supper’s ready. Intercom’s busted again so they couldn’t say over that.” Hanzo sat up, his chest heaving both from panic and having just came. He didn’t hear any footsteps leaving the doorway. McCree must have still been there.

“You should learn to knock, cowboy.” Hanzo tried to play it cool, hoping Jesse hadn’t noticed his shirt. He was probably drunk or hungover anyway. At least that’s what Hazno though to try and calm himself down. A long pause held between the two.

“Is- Is that my shirt you had in there?” McCree asked hesitantly. He didn’t want to blame anyone for anything they didn’t do, but his shirts seemed to keep appearing clean in his drawers when he didn’t remember cleaning them. He’d thought he’d just been doing drunk chores again.

“If I say no will you leave and let this never be spoken of?” Hanzo just wanted this to be over. He should have known better. He shouldn’t have taken the risk. And now he was here answering for it.

“I can make the first part happen, but you and I are gonna talk about this at some point. Wanna know what’s got you wrapped up in my shirt like some boyfriend’s jacket. Ain’t gotta tell me now, but you’re gonna tell me.” McCree felt like it was a fair deal, the man had been jacking off in his shirt after all. Another long pause fell between them. Hanzo tried to figure some other way out, but couldn’t figure one out.

“Deal. No it is not your shirt. Leave now, cowboy.” Hanzo stated bluntly. The sound of McCree’s spurs jangled back down the hallway toward the mess hall. Hanzo flopped back down on the bed, letting out a long, defeated sigh. There was no way he was going to dinner.


End file.
